O.K. ...here's another quick one before I go...this is from the Bennington Banner in Vermont, September 26, 1970.....
White Man Crazy
A deserted farmhouse in a gulled field waws pictured in a farm Journal which offered a prize for the best 100-word description. An Indian took the prize with this entry:
' Picture show white man crazy. Cut down trees. Make big tipi. Plow hill. Water wash. Wind blow soil. Grass gone. Door gone. Window gone. Whole place gone. Buck gone, Squaw gone. Papoose too. No chuck-away. no pigs. No corn. No plow. No hay. No pony. Indian no plow land.
Great Spirit makes grass. Keep grass. Buffalo eat grass. Indian eat Buffalo. Hide make tipi; make moccasin. Indian no make terrace. All time eat. No hunt job. No hitch hike. No ask relief. No shoot pig. No build dam. No give dam. Indian waste nothing. Indian no work.
White man Crazy.'
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
'Sex is a Man's Best Friend'
As most of you know I just recently got back from my trip up North to Connecticut, where I successfully retrieved the rest of my belongings that I had left behind when I ventured south to my new life in Florida. Some of that has already been posted on my older blogs. Anyone that would like to conjur them up, would just have to scroll to the end of the page , where it say's:' 'old posts' or 'new posts'. I thought I'd introduce some new one's on a lighter note that were written by another author, of whom will remain anonomus.
Most all of you know my relationship with the numerous dogs I've had in my life. Now at this point in my life, I understand the fact that it will be no more to haveing a Dog, or any other animal for that fact, since I will be more content meeting people who have their own pets, that I find along the way in my new travels in life. Therefore I thought that I'd start off with this story that I recently found in my belongings, that I will be shareing, along with others, includeing more from 'Auntie'.
It goes like this......
Everybody who has a Dog calls his 'Rover' or 'Boy'. I call mine 'Sex'. Now, Sex has been very embarrassing to me. When I went to City Hall to renew my Dog licence, I told the clerk I would like tom have a licence for Sex. He said, 'I'd like to have one too'. Then I said 'But this is a Dog'. He said he didn't carewhqat she looked like. Then I said, 'you don't understand; I've had Sex since I was 9 yrs. old.' He said, 'You must have been quite a kid'.
When I decided to get married, I told the minister that I wanted to have Sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the wedding. I said, 'But Sex has played a big part in my life, and my whole lifestyle revolves around Sex.' He said he didn't want to hear about my personal life and would not marry us in his church. I tolkd him that everyone coming to the wedding would enjoy haveing Sex there. The next day we were married by a justice of the peace. My family is barred from the church.
My wife and I took the Dog along with us on the honeymoon. When I checked into the motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for me & my wife and a separate room for Sex. The clerk said that every room in the motel was for Sex. Then I said, 'You don't understand, sex keeps me up all night'. He said, 'Me too.'
One day I entered Sex in a contest but before the competition began, the Dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just standing there looking around. I told him I had to hve Sex in the contest. He told me I should have sold my own tickets. ' But you don't understand', I said, 'I had hoped to have Sex on T.V.' He called me a showoff.
Last night Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking around town for him. A cop came to me and asked me 'What are you doing in this alley at 4:00 in the morning?' I said, 'I was looking for Sex.' My case comes up in the court on Thursday.
When my wife and I separated , we went to court to fight for the custody of the Dog. I said ' Your honor, I had Sex before I was married'. The Judge said,' Me too'. Then I told him that after I was married Sex left me. He said, 'Me too.'
Well now, I've been embarrassed , been married, been divorced and had more damn trouble with that Dog that I ever gambled for. Just the other day I went for my first session with the psychiatrist, and she asked me, 'What seems to be trouble?' I replied, 'Hell, Sex has died and left my life. It's like losing my best friend and it's so lonely'. The doctor said, 'look, mister, you and I both know that Sex isn't man's best friend, so get yourself a Dog.'
Now you should know by now that this story hasn't helped me one bit, since I'm not about to get another Dog, and I'll be damned as when I'll have Sex again...!!
Most all of you know my relationship with the numerous dogs I've had in my life. Now at this point in my life, I understand the fact that it will be no more to haveing a Dog, or any other animal for that fact, since I will be more content meeting people who have their own pets, that I find along the way in my new travels in life. Therefore I thought that I'd start off with this story that I recently found in my belongings, that I will be shareing, along with others, includeing more from 'Auntie'.
It goes like this......
Everybody who has a Dog calls his 'Rover' or 'Boy'. I call mine 'Sex'. Now, Sex has been very embarrassing to me. When I went to City Hall to renew my Dog licence, I told the clerk I would like tom have a licence for Sex. He said, 'I'd like to have one too'. Then I said 'But this is a Dog'. He said he didn't carewhqat she looked like. Then I said, 'you don't understand; I've had Sex since I was 9 yrs. old.' He said, 'You must have been quite a kid'.
When I decided to get married, I told the minister that I wanted to have Sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the wedding. I said, 'But Sex has played a big part in my life, and my whole lifestyle revolves around Sex.' He said he didn't want to hear about my personal life and would not marry us in his church. I tolkd him that everyone coming to the wedding would enjoy haveing Sex there. The next day we were married by a justice of the peace. My family is barred from the church.
My wife and I took the Dog along with us on the honeymoon. When I checked into the motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for me & my wife and a separate room for Sex. The clerk said that every room in the motel was for Sex. Then I said, 'You don't understand, sex keeps me up all night'. He said, 'Me too.'
One day I entered Sex in a contest but before the competition began, the Dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just standing there looking around. I told him I had to hve Sex in the contest. He told me I should have sold my own tickets. ' But you don't understand', I said, 'I had hoped to have Sex on T.V.' He called me a showoff.
Last night Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking around town for him. A cop came to me and asked me 'What are you doing in this alley at 4:00 in the morning?' I said, 'I was looking for Sex.' My case comes up in the court on Thursday.
When my wife and I separated , we went to court to fight for the custody of the Dog. I said ' Your honor, I had Sex before I was married'. The Judge said,' Me too'. Then I told him that after I was married Sex left me. He said, 'Me too.'
Well now, I've been embarrassed , been married, been divorced and had more damn trouble with that Dog that I ever gambled for. Just the other day I went for my first session with the psychiatrist, and she asked me, 'What seems to be trouble?' I replied, 'Hell, Sex has died and left my life. It's like losing my best friend and it's so lonely'. The doctor said, 'look, mister, you and I both know that Sex isn't man's best friend, so get yourself a Dog.'
Now you should know by now that this story hasn't helped me one bit, since I'm not about to get another Dog, and I'll be damned as when I'll have Sex again...!!
Sunday, February 26, 2012
AUNT CONNIE & DIRT ROADS....WHERE THE TRUE MEANING OF 'DOWN TO EARTH' ARE SYNONYMOUS!
I found another writing of my Aunt Connie, that I would like to share, & that alot of you will find farmiliar......
She writes on September 6th 2003 :
On my way to a store in Bantam , I decided to take the scenic route , so I went by LaGrotta's rd. On the crest of the hill and looking to the right was the most beautiful view of rolling hills, one could almost visualize being in the Smokey Mt. or the Blue Ridge Mt. of Virginia. Nearer the road were brown Swiss cows feeding in the pasture. Half a mile further I came to Couch Rd. and as that is my old stomping grounds, decided to see what had changed. I met two boys about the age of 11 , one of them knew me and asking the other boy his name , realized that I knew his parents. I told them that all the land on the right useed to be a pasture for our cows and that I lived on the farm where the red barns are and that the roads were all DIRT ROADS. One boy said he wished he had lived then....what, no computers?....
The first change on that road , it is macaadamized much of the way , other changes were beautiful houses , set back in the woods for privacy . So many new houses and all on the land where we had our cows and horses...bringing back memories of the many times I went with my brothers to get the cows or get them to the pastures in the morning .
My happiest memories are when I had my black pony and on a Satuday afternoon I would ride up to Jack Corner Rd. to Rabbit Hill Rd. and down Tanner Hill, up Break Neck Rd. past Above All , where I was born, then going down the West Rd. .... which no longer exist....and comming out on Reed Rd. I would go on to Uncle Perry's and Aunt Min where I knew I would get something good to eat , such as a piece of pie or a delicious cake , just baked that morning and a cup of tea with sugar and milk .
By that time it was getting late in the day , so I mounted the pony and stopped at the watering trough to let her have a drink . Then up over Sackett Hill ...no other road then...down around the hairpin curve and back to 341 past Tannners Farm to the end of Jack Corners Rd. and down Couch Rd. to home and always managed to be home at supper time. In all that rideing I seldom met a car......the roads were all dirt , and were not hard topped until several years later.
Such a beautiful day it has been and I did get my groceries and in time to see the Red Sox beat the be-jabbers out of the Yankees!
I hope to find more of my Aunties' stories , so that we all can go back to a time that was alittle more slower and peaceful. My Aunt died a few months before her 94th birthday on May 11th .
There's no road named after her or my family, like the ones so familiar that she mentioned but I hope the next time you travel down a DIRT ROAD you'll think of her , and how much my family ment to the region......
She writes on September 6th 2003 :
On my way to a store in Bantam , I decided to take the scenic route , so I went by LaGrotta's rd. On the crest of the hill and looking to the right was the most beautiful view of rolling hills, one could almost visualize being in the Smokey Mt. or the Blue Ridge Mt. of Virginia. Nearer the road were brown Swiss cows feeding in the pasture. Half a mile further I came to Couch Rd. and as that is my old stomping grounds, decided to see what had changed. I met two boys about the age of 11 , one of them knew me and asking the other boy his name , realized that I knew his parents. I told them that all the land on the right useed to be a pasture for our cows and that I lived on the farm where the red barns are and that the roads were all DIRT ROADS. One boy said he wished he had lived then....what, no computers?....
The first change on that road , it is macaadamized much of the way , other changes were beautiful houses , set back in the woods for privacy . So many new houses and all on the land where we had our cows and horses...bringing back memories of the many times I went with my brothers to get the cows or get them to the pastures in the morning .
My happiest memories are when I had my black pony and on a Satuday afternoon I would ride up to Jack Corner Rd. to Rabbit Hill Rd. and down Tanner Hill, up Break Neck Rd. past Above All , where I was born, then going down the West Rd. .... which no longer exist....and comming out on Reed Rd. I would go on to Uncle Perry's and Aunt Min where I knew I would get something good to eat , such as a piece of pie or a delicious cake , just baked that morning and a cup of tea with sugar and milk .
By that time it was getting late in the day , so I mounted the pony and stopped at the watering trough to let her have a drink . Then up over Sackett Hill ...no other road then...down around the hairpin curve and back to 341 past Tannners Farm to the end of Jack Corners Rd. and down Couch Rd. to home and always managed to be home at supper time. In all that rideing I seldom met a car......the roads were all dirt , and were not hard topped until several years later.
Such a beautiful day it has been and I did get my groceries and in time to see the Red Sox beat the be-jabbers out of the Yankees!
I hope to find more of my Aunties' stories , so that we all can go back to a time that was alittle more slower and peaceful. My Aunt died a few months before her 94th birthday on May 11th .
There's no road named after her or my family, like the ones so familiar that she mentioned but I hope the next time you travel down a DIRT ROAD you'll think of her , and how much my family ment to the region......
Friday, December 23, 2011
'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS...the original 1st published 23rd 1823..188 years ago today.
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS , WHEN ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE
NOT A CREATRURE WAS STIRRING NOT EVEN A MOUSE.
THE STOCKINGS WERE HUNG BY THE CHIMNEY WITH CARE
IN HOPES THAT ST. NICHOLAS SOON WOULD BE THERE.
THE CHILDREN WERE NESTLED ALL SNUG IN THEIR BEDS
WHILE VISIONS OF SUGAR-PLUMS DANCED IN THEIR HEADS.
AND MAMMA IN HER ' KERCHIEF, AND I IN MY CAP,
HAD JUST SETTLED OUR BRAINS FOR A LONG WINTER'S NAP.
WHEN OUT ON THE LAWN THERE AROSE SUCH A CLATTER ,
I SPRANG FROM MY BED TO SEE WHAT WAS THE MATTER .
AWAY TO THE WINDOW I FLEW LIKE A FLASH ,
TORE OPEN THE SHUTTERS AND THREW UP THE SASH .
THE MOON ON THE BREAST OF THE NEW FALLEN SNOW
GAVE THE LUSTRE OF MID-DAY TO OBJECTS BELOW .
WHEN , WHAT TO MY WONDERING EYES SHOULD APPEAR ,
BUT A MINATURE SLEIGH AND EIGHT TINY REINDEER .
WITH A LITTLE OLD DRIVER , SO LIVELY AND QUICK
I KNEW IN A MOMENT IT MUST BE ST . NICK .
MORE RAPID THAN EAGLES HIS CURSES THEY CAME ,
AND HE WHISTLED , AND SHOUTED , AND CALLED THEM BY NAME !
" NOW DASHER ! NOW DANCER ! NOW PRANCER ! AND VIXEN !
ON , COMET ! ON , CUPID ! ON , ON DONNER AND BLITZEN !
TO THE TOP OF THE PORCH ! TO THE TOP OF THE WALL ,
NOW DASH AWAY ! DASH AWAY ! DASH AWAY ALL ! "
AS DRY LEAVES THAT BEFORE THE WILD HURRICANE FLY ,
WHEN THEY MEET WITH AN OBSTACLE , MOUNT TO THE SKY .
SO UP TO THE HOUSE - TOP THE COURSER THEY FLEW ,
WITH THE SLEIGH FULL OF TOYS , AND ST . NICHOLAS TOO .
AND THEN , IN A TWINKLING , I HEARD ON THE ROOF
THE PRANCING AND PAWING OF EACH LITTLE HOOF .
AS I DREW IN MY HEAD , AND WAS TURNING AROUND ,
DOWN THE CHIMNEY ST. NICHOLAS CAME WITH A BOUND .
HE WAS DRESSED ALL IN FUR , FROM HIS HEAD TO HIS FOOT ,
AND HIS CLOTHES WERE ALL TARNISHED WITH ASHES AND SOOT .
A BUNDLE OF TOYS HE HAD FLUNG ON HIS BACK ,
AND HE LOOKED LIKE A PEDDLER , JUST OPENING HIS PACK .
HIS EYES HOW THEY TWINKLED ! HIS DIMPLES HOW MERRY !
HIS CHEEKS WERE LIKE ROSES , HIS NOSE LIKE A CHERRY !
HIS DROLL LITTLE MOUTH WAS DRAWN UP LIKE A BOW
AND THE BEARD OF HIS CHIN WAS AS WHITE AS THE SNOW .
THE STUMP OF A PIPE HE HELD TIGHT IN HIS TEETH ,
AND THE SMOKE IT ENCIRCLED HIS HEAD LIKE A WREATH .
HE HAD A BROAD FACE AND A LITTLE ROUND BELLY ,
THAT SHOOK WHEN HE LAUGHED , LIKE A BOWL FULL OF JELLY !
HE WAS CHUBBY AND PLUMP , A RIGHT JOLLY OLD ELF ,
AND I LAUGHED WHEN I SAW HIM , IN SPITE OF MY SELF !
A WINK OF HIS EYE AND A TWIST OF HIS HEAD ,
SOON GAVE ME TO KNOW I HAD NOTHING TO DREAD .
HE SPOKE NOT A WORD , BUT WENT STRAIGHT TO HIS WORK ,
AND FILLED ALL THE STOCKINGS , THEN TURNED WITH A JERK .
AND LAYING HIS FINGER ASIDE OF HIS NOSE ,
AND GIVING A NOD , UP THE CHIMNEY HE ROSE !
HE SPRANG TO HIS SLEIGH , TO HIS TEAM GAVE A WHISTLE ,
AND AWAY THEY ALL FLEW LIKE THE DOWN OF A THISTLE .
BUT I HEARD HIM EXCLAIM , 'ERE HE DROVE OUT OF SIGHT ,
' HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL , AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT ! '
THE POEM , 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS [ A VISIT FROM ST . NICK ]
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE [ 1779- 1863 ] FIRST PUBLISHED DECEMBER 23 RD 1823
CLAIMED IT ON 1844 FOR HIS OWN.........
...AND YOU ALL THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DO ALITTLE 'GRINCH SATIRE ' ON IT ...OR MAYBE SOMETHING LIKE THIS ......
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS , AND ALL THRU THE PAD
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING , AND WELL , THAT AIN'T SO BAD.
THE STOCKINGS WERE HUNG BY THE CHIMNEY WITH CARE ,
IN HOPES THAT THE GOVERNMENT WOULDN'T TAKE IT'S SHARE .
THE CHILDREN WERE ON THEIR COMPUTERS , ENOUGH SAID !
WITH MORE VISIONS OF IPADS , IPHONES , AND XBOXES DANCED IN THEIR HEADS .
THE 'OL LADY IN HER NIGHTY , AND I'M AT HALF MASTED ,
HAD JUST SETTLED OUR DIFFERENCES TO WHO'S TO TAKE THE LAST BLAST !
WHEN OUT ON THE LAWN , I THOUGHT I CAME WITH A SHUTTER ,
IT WAS JUST MY NEIGHBORS AND NO UTTERS.
AWAY FROM THE WINDOW I FLEW AS I FLASHED ,
TORE AWAY THE BED SHEETS , I THEN I JUST GASPED.
THE MOON SHOWN ON HER BREASTS LIKE THE NEW FALLEN SNOW ,
GAVE THE LUSTRE OF GREATNESS TO THE OBJECTS BELOW.
WHEN WHAT TO MY WONDERING EYES SHOULD APPEAR ,
BUT A MINIATURE SLEIGH , AND EIGHT REPUBLICAN QUEERS.
WITH A LITTLE OLD DRIVER [ IF YA KINOW WHAT I MEAN ]
I KNEW IN A MOMENT IT MUST BE OBSENE !
MORE RAPID THAN EAGLETON HIS CORSETS THEY CAME ,
AND HE WHISTLED , AND WHISTLED , THEN CALLED THEM BY NAME !
' NOW BACHMANN AND PHALIN , NOW COME ON ROMNEY AND PERRY !
COME ON STUPID OR GINGRICH OR HUNTSMAN OR WAS IT PAUL ?
TO THE TOP OF THE POLLS TO THE TOP OF THE CONGRESS HALLS ,
NOW DASH AWAY , DASH AWAY , BEFORE LAST CALL !
THEY DON'T DARE SAY A WORD , BUT WENT STRAIGHT......
AND FILLED ALL THEIR POCKETS WITH PLENTY OF CASH ,
AND AWAY THEY ALL FLEW FLEW AND LEFT BEHIND THE TRASH.
BUT I HEARD THEM EXCLAIM AS THEY WERE WELL OUT OF SIGHT :
" HAPPY NEW YEAR TO US , BECAUSE TO US IT'S ALRIGHT..!!
......SORRY...I HOPE YOU ALL STILL HAVE AGREAT CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR !!
TO THE TOP OF THE PORCH ! TO THE TOP OF THE WALL ,
NOT A CREATRURE WAS STIRRING NOT EVEN A MOUSE.
THE STOCKINGS WERE HUNG BY THE CHIMNEY WITH CARE
IN HOPES THAT ST. NICHOLAS SOON WOULD BE THERE.
THE CHILDREN WERE NESTLED ALL SNUG IN THEIR BEDS
WHILE VISIONS OF SUGAR-PLUMS DANCED IN THEIR HEADS.
AND MAMMA IN HER ' KERCHIEF, AND I IN MY CAP,
HAD JUST SETTLED OUR BRAINS FOR A LONG WINTER'S NAP.
WHEN OUT ON THE LAWN THERE AROSE SUCH A CLATTER ,
I SPRANG FROM MY BED TO SEE WHAT WAS THE MATTER .
AWAY TO THE WINDOW I FLEW LIKE A FLASH ,
TORE OPEN THE SHUTTERS AND THREW UP THE SASH .
THE MOON ON THE BREAST OF THE NEW FALLEN SNOW
GAVE THE LUSTRE OF MID-DAY TO OBJECTS BELOW .
WHEN , WHAT TO MY WONDERING EYES SHOULD APPEAR ,
BUT A MINATURE SLEIGH AND EIGHT TINY REINDEER .
WITH A LITTLE OLD DRIVER , SO LIVELY AND QUICK
I KNEW IN A MOMENT IT MUST BE ST . NICK .
MORE RAPID THAN EAGLES HIS CURSES THEY CAME ,
AND HE WHISTLED , AND SHOUTED , AND CALLED THEM BY NAME !
" NOW DASHER ! NOW DANCER ! NOW PRANCER ! AND VIXEN !
ON , COMET ! ON , CUPID ! ON , ON DONNER AND BLITZEN !
TO THE TOP OF THE PORCH ! TO THE TOP OF THE WALL ,
NOW DASH AWAY ! DASH AWAY ! DASH AWAY ALL ! "
AS DRY LEAVES THAT BEFORE THE WILD HURRICANE FLY ,
WHEN THEY MEET WITH AN OBSTACLE , MOUNT TO THE SKY .
SO UP TO THE HOUSE - TOP THE COURSER THEY FLEW ,
WITH THE SLEIGH FULL OF TOYS , AND ST . NICHOLAS TOO .
AND THEN , IN A TWINKLING , I HEARD ON THE ROOF
THE PRANCING AND PAWING OF EACH LITTLE HOOF .
AS I DREW IN MY HEAD , AND WAS TURNING AROUND ,
DOWN THE CHIMNEY ST. NICHOLAS CAME WITH A BOUND .
HE WAS DRESSED ALL IN FUR , FROM HIS HEAD TO HIS FOOT ,
AND HIS CLOTHES WERE ALL TARNISHED WITH ASHES AND SOOT .
A BUNDLE OF TOYS HE HAD FLUNG ON HIS BACK ,
AND HE LOOKED LIKE A PEDDLER , JUST OPENING HIS PACK .
HIS EYES HOW THEY TWINKLED ! HIS DIMPLES HOW MERRY !
HIS CHEEKS WERE LIKE ROSES , HIS NOSE LIKE A CHERRY !
HIS DROLL LITTLE MOUTH WAS DRAWN UP LIKE A BOW
AND THE BEARD OF HIS CHIN WAS AS WHITE AS THE SNOW .
THE STUMP OF A PIPE HE HELD TIGHT IN HIS TEETH ,
AND THE SMOKE IT ENCIRCLED HIS HEAD LIKE A WREATH .
HE HAD A BROAD FACE AND A LITTLE ROUND BELLY ,
THAT SHOOK WHEN HE LAUGHED , LIKE A BOWL FULL OF JELLY !
HE WAS CHUBBY AND PLUMP , A RIGHT JOLLY OLD ELF ,
AND I LAUGHED WHEN I SAW HIM , IN SPITE OF MY SELF !
A WINK OF HIS EYE AND A TWIST OF HIS HEAD ,
SOON GAVE ME TO KNOW I HAD NOTHING TO DREAD .
HE SPOKE NOT A WORD , BUT WENT STRAIGHT TO HIS WORK ,
AND FILLED ALL THE STOCKINGS , THEN TURNED WITH A JERK .
AND LAYING HIS FINGER ASIDE OF HIS NOSE ,
AND GIVING A NOD , UP THE CHIMNEY HE ROSE !
HE SPRANG TO HIS SLEIGH , TO HIS TEAM GAVE A WHISTLE ,
AND AWAY THEY ALL FLEW LIKE THE DOWN OF A THISTLE .
BUT I HEARD HIM EXCLAIM , 'ERE HE DROVE OUT OF SIGHT ,
' HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL , AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT ! '
THE POEM , 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS [ A VISIT FROM ST . NICK ]
BY CLEMENT CLARKE MOORE [ 1779- 1863 ] FIRST PUBLISHED DECEMBER 23 RD 1823
CLAIMED IT ON 1844 FOR HIS OWN.........
...AND YOU ALL THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DO ALITTLE 'GRINCH SATIRE ' ON IT ...OR MAYBE SOMETHING LIKE THIS ......
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS , AND ALL THRU THE PAD
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING , AND WELL , THAT AIN'T SO BAD.
THE STOCKINGS WERE HUNG BY THE CHIMNEY WITH CARE ,
IN HOPES THAT THE GOVERNMENT WOULDN'T TAKE IT'S SHARE .
THE CHILDREN WERE ON THEIR COMPUTERS , ENOUGH SAID !
WITH MORE VISIONS OF IPADS , IPHONES , AND XBOXES DANCED IN THEIR HEADS .
THE 'OL LADY IN HER NIGHTY , AND I'M AT HALF MASTED ,
HAD JUST SETTLED OUR DIFFERENCES TO WHO'S TO TAKE THE LAST BLAST !
WHEN OUT ON THE LAWN , I THOUGHT I CAME WITH A SHUTTER ,
IT WAS JUST MY NEIGHBORS AND NO UTTERS.
AWAY FROM THE WINDOW I FLEW AS I FLASHED ,
TORE AWAY THE BED SHEETS , I THEN I JUST GASPED.
THE MOON SHOWN ON HER BREASTS LIKE THE NEW FALLEN SNOW ,
GAVE THE LUSTRE OF GREATNESS TO THE OBJECTS BELOW.
WHEN WHAT TO MY WONDERING EYES SHOULD APPEAR ,
BUT A MINIATURE SLEIGH , AND EIGHT REPUBLICAN QUEERS.
WITH A LITTLE OLD DRIVER [ IF YA KINOW WHAT I MEAN ]
I KNEW IN A MOMENT IT MUST BE OBSENE !
MORE RAPID THAN EAGLETON HIS CORSETS THEY CAME ,
AND HE WHISTLED , AND WHISTLED , THEN CALLED THEM BY NAME !
' NOW BACHMANN AND PHALIN , NOW COME ON ROMNEY AND PERRY !
COME ON STUPID OR GINGRICH OR HUNTSMAN OR WAS IT PAUL ?
TO THE TOP OF THE POLLS TO THE TOP OF THE CONGRESS HALLS ,
NOW DASH AWAY , DASH AWAY , BEFORE LAST CALL !
THEY DON'T DARE SAY A WORD , BUT WENT STRAIGHT......
AND FILLED ALL THEIR POCKETS WITH PLENTY OF CASH ,
AND AWAY THEY ALL FLEW FLEW AND LEFT BEHIND THE TRASH.
BUT I HEARD THEM EXCLAIM AS THEY WERE WELL OUT OF SIGHT :
" HAPPY NEW YEAR TO US , BECAUSE TO US IT'S ALRIGHT..!!
......SORRY...I HOPE YOU ALL STILL HAVE AGREAT CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR !!
TO THE TOP OF THE PORCH ! TO THE TOP OF THE WALL ,
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
...size matters ...Part 2....
Billionaire investor Warren Buffett is calling on the megarich to pay more on taxes. Stateing that: " My friends and I have been coddled long enough by a billionaire-friendly Congress, it's time for our government to get serious about shared sacrifices." He also noted that Washington L egislators "feel compelled to protect us much as if we were spotted owls or some other endangered species." He said he knows many of the megarich well and most wouldn't mind paying more in taxes.
Upon hearing this Michele Bachmann stated that she can totally relate, even though she doesn't consider herself and her husband, Marcus, one of the megarich, she said she loves owls and is a big fan of Jimmy's song's especially Margaritaville. She said her and her husband also like to listen to Elvis, who she recently wished a happy birthday to on a campaign stop in South Carolina, while playing the Elvis tune 'Promised Land'. That did however turn out to be somewhat appropriate since that day, August 16th is the anniversary of Elvis's death, not his birthday, which is Jan. 8th, 1935. Being used to stumbleing over cultural references before, like the time in June when she kicked off her presidental campaign in Waterloo, Iowa, calling it the home of actor John Wayne, when in fact is the home of John Wayne Gacy , the serial killer. She just brushed that off saying that they both had killer careers.
On another news note Kraft and Sara Lee went to court over hot dogs, stated " let the wiener wars begin. There's never been anything of this scope..in the entire history of hot dogs." After hearing this Rep. Wiener ..[you remember him]. said he's still in the fight of his life for that claim that Todd Phalin claims that size does matter. He noted the the photo op. with Michele Bachmann attempting to put down a large sausage just proves it!
Michele is not fased , now that she realizes that Sara Phalin's maiden name is 'Lee' , she will now stand-up for all the wieners in the world, possibly useing it in her next campaign speech when she goes to Chicago, home of both companies.
Myself , I don't find much deference in using using any particular brand name, what's in a name...make my hot dog a 'Nathan's', please......
Upon hearing this Michele Bachmann stated that she can totally relate, even though she doesn't consider herself and her husband, Marcus, one of the megarich, she said she loves owls and is a big fan of Jimmy's song's especially Margaritaville. She said her and her husband also like to listen to Elvis, who she recently wished a happy birthday to on a campaign stop in South Carolina, while playing the Elvis tune 'Promised Land'. That did however turn out to be somewhat appropriate since that day, August 16th is the anniversary of Elvis's death, not his birthday, which is Jan. 8th, 1935. Being used to stumbleing over cultural references before, like the time in June when she kicked off her presidental campaign in Waterloo, Iowa, calling it the home of actor John Wayne, when in fact is the home of John Wayne Gacy , the serial killer. She just brushed that off saying that they both had killer careers.
On another news note Kraft and Sara Lee went to court over hot dogs, stated " let the wiener wars begin. There's never been anything of this scope..in the entire history of hot dogs." After hearing this Rep. Wiener ..[you remember him]. said he's still in the fight of his life for that claim that Todd Phalin claims that size does matter. He noted the the photo op. with Michele Bachmann attempting to put down a large sausage just proves it!
Michele is not fased , now that she realizes that Sara Phalin's maiden name is 'Lee' , she will now stand-up for all the wieners in the world, possibly useing it in her next campaign speech when she goes to Chicago, home of both companies.
Myself , I don't find much deference in using using any particular brand name, what's in a name...make my hot dog a 'Nathan's', please......
Thursday, August 11, 2011
From..In From the Storm ...to..Out in the Storm...
...Well it's been a couple of interesting days on Face Book, with my computer not exactly performing the way it should on that particular forum. But hey, what else is new...I'm glad you asked...it just so happens that not only did I steal a dream sequence away from Candy...which she might be upset with me since I haven't heard from her, although I did warn her twice that I was going to 'borrow' from her email.....I now have another little ditty that she relayed to me, that I don't think she'll mind me using.
...She mentioned to her son Marc , that she was reading my blog and he reminded her of a funny story: I was visiting them at the apartment on Aspetuck Ave. , Jean Callahan and Mike Frisbee were there as well. It was snowing hard and we all decided to sled down Aspetuck. She reminded me that it was a steep hill, and we all got on big pieces of cardboard and I decided , apparently following some 'herb' omelets that I made, that it would be fun to 'surf' down the hill. I was flying..until I hit something under the snow that sent me airbourne. I landed & plowed through the snow all the way to the Green. Then I just lay there. Jean, Mike, and Candy were laughing so hard she thought that they would all pee their pants!! Marc thought that I was dead, and went running over to help me. He reached me just as I stood up , shook myself like a giant bear, and roared ! To this day Candy is surprised that we didn't trumatize him for life! ....well maybe we did...he's a Republican..!!
...She mentioned to her son Marc , that she was reading my blog and he reminded her of a funny story: I was visiting them at the apartment on Aspetuck Ave. , Jean Callahan and Mike Frisbee were there as well. It was snowing hard and we all decided to sled down Aspetuck. She reminded me that it was a steep hill, and we all got on big pieces of cardboard and I decided , apparently following some 'herb' omelets that I made, that it would be fun to 'surf' down the hill. I was flying..until I hit something under the snow that sent me airbourne. I landed & plowed through the snow all the way to the Green. Then I just lay there. Jean, Mike, and Candy were laughing so hard she thought that they would all pee their pants!! Marc thought that I was dead, and went running over to help me. He reached me just as I stood up , shook myself like a giant bear, and roared ! To this day Candy is surprised that we didn't trumatize him for life! ....well maybe we did...he's a Republican..!!
Thursday, August 4, 2011
IN FROM THE STORM...BARRY, THE BOUGH, & BEYOND....
As I mentioned before, it would be hard not to come back & do another ditty on the Bough. On what I would consider a 'normal' day at the computer, just perussing around the internet, FB, email, etc. all of a sudden there she was..with that ever so bright smile that beamed her happy go lucky personality, Candy. That's Candice Meile Luther, now. A fresh face from the days gone by, & most can remember her as the gal on Bank Street, running a small but vibrant business called : In From The Storm. She has joined forces w me in this great world of the internet. Upon revealing ourselves w the gusto of two dogs in heat., we finally settled down to what we actually knew, which was stories from the past. Dropping many names the will soon fill this blog w farmiliar faces, only one stands out in a story she related to me from a dream she had.........
" I have to tell you something weird. The night before I found you on FB I had a dream about Barry Quiaoit at the Golden Bough. Just a conversational encounter; I was wearing a dress, which I almost never did, and he complimented me. He was rushing back to the kitchen from the dining room and I was returning from the ladies room. It was one of those small, pleasent encounters that are so nice but you never remember. But I dreamed it exactly as it happened. My dress was a beautiful blue, his pants black, shirt white. I remember the glow of light from the dining room and the muted sound of the diners. I hadn't thought of the Bough or Barry in many, many years and then there you were the next day and your blog with his name. Funny how these things happen!"
Now I have to reflect a moment on another story from the Bough that Barry himself told of an encounter there in the back hallway , behind the bar. I know some of you remember him telling us how he saw an old man pass in front of him from the bar wall , then disapearing thru the opposite one. This ,as the story goes , was a man who died in the Nurseing home that this building was at one time, among other things, like an Inn in the 1700's that had a passage way for the 'Underground tunel' for slaves.
Those who chose to believe in these things or not to , is up to you, but don't you think it gives some creedense to the fact that alot of our loved ones are still looking over us? I know it's hard for me to let Barry, John Henry, and so many of our friends and family go....so with some of these tributes and parties like the one last Saturday, we will all sleep alittle easier...sweet dreams.......
" I have to tell you something weird. The night before I found you on FB I had a dream about Barry Quiaoit at the Golden Bough. Just a conversational encounter; I was wearing a dress, which I almost never did, and he complimented me. He was rushing back to the kitchen from the dining room and I was returning from the ladies room. It was one of those small, pleasent encounters that are so nice but you never remember. But I dreamed it exactly as it happened. My dress was a beautiful blue, his pants black, shirt white. I remember the glow of light from the dining room and the muted sound of the diners. I hadn't thought of the Bough or Barry in many, many years and then there you were the next day and your blog with his name. Funny how these things happen!"
Now I have to reflect a moment on another story from the Bough that Barry himself told of an encounter there in the back hallway , behind the bar. I know some of you remember him telling us how he saw an old man pass in front of him from the bar wall , then disapearing thru the opposite one. This ,as the story goes , was a man who died in the Nurseing home that this building was at one time, among other things, like an Inn in the 1700's that had a passage way for the 'Underground tunel' for slaves.
Those who chose to believe in these things or not to , is up to you, but don't you think it gives some creedense to the fact that alot of our loved ones are still looking over us? I know it's hard for me to let Barry, John Henry, and so many of our friends and family go....so with some of these tributes and parties like the one last Saturday, we will all sleep alittle easier...sweet dreams.......
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